Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
As she folded her arms across her chest, Rebel chuckled.
“He said you had an attitude a mile long.”
“Who did?” Willow asked.
“Your dad.”
This made her pause. She had no idea her father even talked about her behind her back. Why would he talk about her? He’d been disappointed in her for a long time and didn’t even acknowledge her existence. That seemed to be her father’s trait—pretending she didn’t exist, so he didn’t have to deal with the fact his wife, her mother, had left them both.
The divorce papers had sent her father over the edge, and it had cemented their stalemate relationship.
“He shouldn’t have been talking about me,” she said. She moved away to go and do anything that involved her hands, and not talking to him.
“Why not?” Rebel asked. “You’re his daughter.”
“My father’s dead, so please enjoy your drink, because it’s nearly closing time.”
Rebel chuckled. “Sassy, I like it.”
Willow had heard enough. She didn’t want to think about the guilt that ate away at her each time she thought of her dad. There were so many times she wanted to come home, to make up for lost time, to try and make it work, but she always found some excuse not to work it, and now there was no chance of them ever mending bridges.
Her father was gone and was never coming back. She didn’t need this … biker, to remind her of that.
Rounding the bar, she made her way toward the door, and Rebel gave another little chuckle that set her nerves on end.
“Leave!”
Rebel threw back his whiskey and slapped the glass down on the bar. She thought the sheer force of it might shatter the glass, but it didn’t.
Rebel walked slowly toward her. Willow tried not to pay attention to the walk, or the way he looked at her. There was no disgust or any indication he was pissed off. She didn’t know how she had done it, but he actually looked entertained by her.
She was ready to kick his ass out, but Rebel took another step toward her. For some strange reason she didn’t feel afraid.
“You know, he said you had attitude, but he didn’t say anything about how fucking sexy you are.”
“He was my dad,” Willow said.
Did this man find her sexy? No, she shouldn’t care.
“True, and that kind of shit is messed up.” Rebel gave a groan of approval. “I’ll let you kick me out this time, but I promise you, Willow Storm, by next Christmas, you are going to be screaming my name and begging me for more.”
“Get lost, creep.”
Rebel gripped her waist and pulled her in close.
“Not a creep.” He slammed his lips down on hers, kissing her hard, taking her by surprise.
At first, she didn’t kiss him back, because she was a little shocked that he had taken a kiss and not asked permission first. This wasn’t a soft kiss—it was hard, firm, demanding, and Willow loved every second of it. She couldn’t help but kiss him back.
Rebel was the one to break the kiss first.
“And the name is Rebel Constantine. You better get used to it.”
Chapter One
One Year Later
“I know my daughter can be a little … irritating, but I’d like you and your club to keep an eye on her. You know, help her out, be there for her.”
Rebel Constantine looked over at Storm’s bar. Willow had been running the place for eighteen months now, and she had kept the place thriving, much to his surprise. He expected her to run the place into the ground, but instead she had done Storm proud. If he was still alive, he knew there was a lot her father would want to say to her.
He was pretty sure there was a lot Storm would want to say to him too, primarily, to keep his hands off her, not that he’d listen.
From that one look at Storm’s graveside, where he’d not worn his leather cut, nor had any of his club out of respect, Rebel couldn’t get the feisty woman out of his mind. For six months he kept his distance, and then on Christmas Eve, he had made the choice to go and see her.
Willow was more than he could have imagined. Long, brown hair, even though she had pulled the locks into a ponytail. Brown eyes that looked so fucking pained and curious at the same time. He knew she had found him attractive. Even though it had been freezing outside, the bar was fucking warm that night. Willow had a small shirt on that showed those voluptuous curves, as well as hardened nipples designed to make a man’s mouth water, and they had made his water. He’d gotten hard at the sight of her in jeans and a tight shirt.
She had large tits, a nice, big ass, and thighs designed to be wrapped around him. Willow had also been feisty, which he couldn’t help but love.